


Tower

by froggie004



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anxious Toby Smith | Tubbo, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), I don't watch tubbo all that much so idk how he acts, Implied Character Death, blood mention, cursing, dirt pillar, i wrote the majority of this at one am, im so sorry it's bad, it was very fast, stream from 12/16/2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28138095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggie004/pseuds/froggie004
Summary: From the end of Tubbo's stream on 12/16/2020, when Tubbo comes to visit Tommy and finds a dirt pillar in his place.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	Tower

“What is that?” He asked, craning his neck to see the entirety of the pillar. It was a gargantuan thing, the tip of it piercing and going beyond the line of clouds. While studying it, his foot narrowly missed the edge of the great pit that has once housed a haphazard tent. “Tommy, what the fuck is that?” His voice bounced off the walls of the pit, echoing around the decimated landscape. It returned to his ears, scared, pitchy, and utterly alone. His eyes flicked from the tower of dirt to the pit and back again. A jump from even half that height would destroy someone. From the top? Tommy would be - 

_No. He’s not...He wouldn’t do something like that._ Tubbo thought to himself. _He’s around here somewhere._ “Tommy, if you’re hiding to scare me, it’s really not funny,” he shouted, but the quiver in his voice was undeniable. He rubbed the back of his neck, strained from looking straight up, and began a cautious pace down the rubbled remains of a path. The ground was unstable, carved out from below, and he nearly lost his balance a few times. _He couldn’t have done this himself. Not this much damage_ , he thought. He would never do this on purpose. He could feel the tower looming behind him, staring him down to nothing - stacks upon stacks of material - _it’s too deliberate._

He kicked a piece of cobblestone as he walked, the rock clattering down into the pit and rolling to a stop in a small pile of ashes he hadn’t noticed amongst the debris. Tentatively, he took half a step towards the edge of the basin to peer into it.

That half step fell on unsteady ground. The rock cracked under his weight, sending a sheet of shale skittering towards the bowl of the pit. Panicked, he lunged backward, losing his footing on the crumbling rock and scraping down the slope. His shirt sleeve caught on a jagged piece of stone as he fumbled for leverage, only to end up landing hard on his ass and skidded with soot. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed, fingering a shallow scrape on his bicep that accompanied his torn sleeve. It stung, eliciting another noise through his clenched teeth. He pulled his hand away after a moment, only to find his fingertips sheened with fresh blood. “Fuck, Tommy, if you’re planning on showing up, now would be the time!” He waited a hopeful moment before slamming his fist down on the ashen rubble. “It’s not funny!” he yelled, his throat stripping with the effort. “None of this is funny, okay? Just stop this shit and help me get out of your stupid pit!” 

Another apprehensive moment. Tubbo swallowed deeply, and grabbed at a tuft of his hair. He squeezed it in his fist, not even considering the blood that now clung to the strands. He wracked his brain for something, anything, that would help. He was about two feet away from the crater's deepest part, sitting at a steep angle along the side. It would be nearly impossible to climb out, and he didn’t have anything to hoist himself up with. He let his hand fall to his side after a few minutes of careful consideration, only to realize how dark it had become. The sun was setting when he had stepped through the portal, and now an inky black sky made it difficult to see the pillar of dirt that he had come to investigate. As the seconds wore on, even the hole's mouth was hard to differentiate from the jagged rock that formed the sides. 

Tubbo shuffled up begrudgingly, his shifting feet sending loose pebbles scurrying. After brushing off his pants and checking the rest of his body for any more blunders, he took a step deeper into the abyss. His shoe sent up a small cloud of ash, getting in his eyes and dusting the cuffs of his jeans before it landed hard on a chunk of rock.

He thought it was rock, at least, before he noticed it glimmering in the faint purple light of the portal. He grabbed the thing with his unscathed arm and rubbed the shiny surface along the leg of his pants, trying to wipe off the layer of soot and dust that covered its face. 

A familiar face, actually. It belonged to a steel and glass contraption identical to the comforting weight that Tubbo always carried in his pocket. No, he thought to himself, the voice in his head growing frantic. _No, no no._ _He wouldn’t just leave it_. He turned the device over in his hand, blowing on the cool metal backing and holding it up to the portal’s glow. A thin engraving could just barely be seen, not close to being legible, but he didn’t need to read it to know what it said. 

_Your Tubbo._

He knew before he turned it again where the arrow would be pointing, but he did it all the while. The compass stood steady and firm in his hands with its arrows pointed directly at his chest. The thoughts rattling around his head picked up speed, gaining volume until they became deafening. 

He would only leave it if he’s -

_He’s not dead._

_Why would it be down here, then?_

_Maybe he just doesn’t need it anymore._

_You never came to visit him. No matter where he is, this is all your fault._

_Of course, it’s all my fault._

_Use your compass._

_Find him._

Desperately, he grabbed at his back pocket for his own. Instead, a sharp, cold edge met his fingertip. He pulled it out anyways - or what remained of his compass.

The glass was in pieces in his hands, and the metal was bent around the rim. The backside of it was scratched beyond recognition. It had been totaled in the slide down the rock wall, but the arrows remained intact. 

And they were spinning. 

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry, I don't know Tubbo all that well. Thanks for making it this far. :)


End file.
